The banquet winds down to a close, without further controversy, and finally Earl Richard stands to speak again.
"Jen, please speak with Tormod here, find them some land to build on and help them develop it." then turning to the newcomers. "I am sorry your welcome was not as you expected, but we are a new land here. Struggling for our very existence. We have rumours of dragons in the swamps and know we have dogheads in the hills. Beyond those dogheads are more lands for us, some occupied by Callum's people, " and he looks around the hall for the big man - finally notices his absence and frowns slightly, "Who are entitled to our protection as well. With this we contend on a daily basis - but we ARE winning …."
Then he turns towards Rolf. "Constable Liefson, if you will organise your companions tomorrow you can collect final supplies from my storerooms and prepare to scout these dogheads. I do not expect you to fight them alone. There will be an army following behind you, ready to attack at your word. Perhaps you can ask Edgar to act as a messenger for you, or you may wish to find another way to alert them when you need our support.
It is important that you are aware that the doghead camp you identified on your first trip along the inland trail, is sacred to our Celtic cousins. You should do all that is in your power to ensure that the holy areas are not desecrated and more than they have been so far. Peter also tells me that his research shows that some dogheads take slaves. You will be aware that some of our countrymen are missing. It would serve us all well if you could release any prisoners alive. However - your primary goal is to see the dogheads chased from that camp, and far from here. Kill as many as you need to."
So saying he signals the banquet closed and withdraws to his chambers. Transport is provided for each of you back to your lodgings and lodgings found for those of you without. In one corner of the room, Jen Jensen calls the new Norse leaders to him and starts discussing their needs. The rest, Nobles, gentlemen and workers all start to make their way towards the exit, and the servants start tidying up. ….
In the morning, there are boats ready to transport everyone to Giantsferry, in preparation for your departure.
Before people break up, Rolf calls for everyone who is interested in scouting out the dogheads to meet him at Giant's Ferry at 10 a.m. "The sitting room at the guest house seems a good spot." He adds. Once back in Giant's Ferry, he arranges to have some fruits, cheese, bread and drinks.
Upon the morrow, he waits as the others filter in. Of course, sharing the guest house with Elsbeth, Kerim and Callum, he seems to expect them to show up promptly. Well, perhaps not Callum, he doesn't seem to have returned after their time apart.
Once everyone arrives, Rolf addresses them. "I felt we should spend a bit of time to get to know one another and learn what skills we have at hand. I am Rolf Liefsen and am Earl Richard's Constable. It is my place to lead." He is wearing his armor and weapons, the stave of his bow a near match in length for the blade across his back. There is a smaller axe at his side, the same axe that was found in the crypt. He cuts a rakishly competent figure. "I am a ranger of the wilds, though I am not unschooled. And I have already had some experience with the dogheads we are to meet."
Kerim stands abruptly, almost tripping over in his nervousness. Keen to get the ordeal of introductions over with. Despite knowing most gathered his embarresment is still acute.
"I...Kerim is my name...Had I but half the skill with a sword as does Effendi Rolf I would be happy to call myself honest. Indeed too have I some small measure of skill with locks."
Kerim then reseats himself quickly, a small measure of shame recalling the poison needle incident.
After Kerim speaks, Rolf jumps in again, thinking a bit more need be said. "Kerim here is looking to establish more trade routes in Galinia. He's already done pretty well on the coastal areas that have recently been reclaimed."
He looks to the others gathered, waiting to hear what they have to say about themselves.
Elsbeth smiles, her hand straying to the huge wolf at her side. With her long auburn tresses weaved with flowers and her green gown trimmed in silver, she looks the part of the Celtic lass of the forest.
"I am Elsbeth Marva Treveri, Grand-Niece of Segovax, servant of the gods of the forest and plains, Druid of my people." She shakes her head. "I'm not sayin' I'm a great warrior, but I be knowing the ways of the land, of the Gods and my people."
She points at her companion. "This be Laddie, my dear friend. What ye be sayin' to me ye be sayin' to him, and he'll be tellin'!"
Ravn is pleased to find the company gathered in the guestroom instead of the longhall, his vow and the way he had stood next to Elsbeth for the duration of the previous evening's function in fresh recollection.
This morning, the Runecaster is dressed for travel. He wears a worn blue cape over his chainmail and the silver hammer medallion that hangs onto his broad chest, and bears a spangenhelm under his arm. A large round shield is slung on his back and at his side a fine longsword shares his broad girdle with numerous pouches, and in his hand he holds a long spear with a rune-engraved blade, the symbol of his calling. A black patch covers his left eye and a crow - one-eyed as its master - perches on his shoulder. He has set his luggage - a thick pack roll, a leather bag, a stoppered waterhorn, and a canvas bag - next to his seat and now rises to introduce himself to the unfamiliar faces.
"I am Raven Ashengrey, gothi of the North and caster of Greybeard's runes. I follow the Olde Ways and strive to bring wisdom and prosperity to my kinsmen here in the South. As you know, I have taken a vow to prove my blood and worth four times over, and in this you will find my word as true as my aim. My arm is strong, my will stronger still, and the runes I wield to summon the power of the Aesir to our aid." Oddly enough, he does not take the time to introduce his foul companion, instead sending it a rather beleaguered glance as if he considers it a burden.
He sits again, listening to the others' introductions while he carefully stows the wares he has collected from the Earl's stores - a bronze mortar and grinder, a pouch of ground charcoal, a pot of honey, three torches, a handful of flints and steel for striking fire.
Meeleek arrives to the meeting, much the same as you have become accustomed to seeing him- draped in his gray Aba from head to toe, its folds hiding numerous pockets and pouches.
The young Midani bows deeply. "Salaam Aliekum, Ladies and Sirs. I am Meeleek El’Wakhad, a sorcerer of sand and wind. I have to offer my small practice with the Art, and the knowledge and wisdom of my people. Fate has brought me here, but her reasons are not known to me. For a while, I will travel and fight with you, if you so wish it."
With that, the young mage bows again, and sits.
Edgar joins with the others at the appointed time for the meeting, listening to all everyone has to say while he struggles with a nut he appropriates from the fare provided.
Believing that the newcomers have had sufficient introduction to the resident "talking raven" the previous evening, he remains in the background while the two-legs introduce themselves, though he does greet Rolf with a respectful caaaark and Elsbeth with a friendly nod to both the lady herself and her wolf.
Walking in behind Meeleek, Corellon waits for him to finish, and simply says, "Hi," elaborating a bit, he finishes, "I am Corellon Amastacia, my skills to call my own are simply my resourcefullness, and my knack to be where I shouldn't." he smiles a bit at this cryptic 'inside' joke with himself.
Rolf chuckles a bit at Corellon's joke, but he's really not satisfied with the vague response. Before speaking, he looks the elf over closely.
Peter comes into the room late. His once new leather coat now looks a bit worse for wear, but his shield is newley painted with a mixture of green and brown daubs.
He dumps his pack on the floor, in a corner, and leans his shield against it, before turning to the room. Realising that people are introducing themselve, he waits his turn, and then, while Rolf considers the Elf, adds his voice to the round of introductions.
"Peter Gasgano." He says in a firm voice. "Nurse, cook and archivist." Then he steps back against the wall waiting for more introductions, should they occur.
Salina crosses to the assembling group slowly. She stands silent, strangly caressing the purple bracer on her left arm which might be noticed to match the slim collar aorund her neck.
When it comes to her turn to speak, she does so softly and her stance seems to keep shifting between one of stoic alertness to almost a girlish sway.
"My name is Selina." She pauses for a second, looking down at her bracer which seems to hold much of her attention. "My past is unimportant, but you may count on me to fulfill my word."
Peter has seen more of Selina than the others, as they are the only two who have spent most of the last three months on Tas Bardon Island.
Still, he watches with interest as she introduces herself, finally hoping to find out a little more about her. Smiling gently, he shakes his head slightly when he hears the paucity of her introduction.
Corellon is armed with a short sword and a short bow. I leave the rest of the description to Corellon.
Peter is a short, lightly built man with a shock of curly blonde hair that reaches his shoulders. He wears a knee length hide jerkin, with elbow length sleeves, a pale yellow shirt, dark green leggings and knee length boots made of soft brown leather. He has a hooded cloak, which he pulls up in poor weather.
He wears a dagger at his belt and a large pouch hang at his belt. The large pouch bulges with intersting shape, while a set of laces from his belt (which disappear under his tunic) imply the existance of a smaller pouch or purse.
A shield, bizarrely daubed green and brown, and a backpack lie on the floor at his feet. There are no other weapons in view.
Peter waits until there is a natural lull in the conversation, then steps forward slightly. Using his hand to catch people's attention he speaks quietly.
"As Kerim's mules are busy plying his trade route aong the coast road, and Peters smiles slightly as he talks, "I have arranged for us to borrow a couple of mules from The Earl. However, I did have to promise that Kerim would look after them rather than me." He appears to frown slightly, "For some reason The Earl's ostler has the idea that I can't look after the animals properly. Still no doubt Kerim wiill do a better job.
He pauses slightly "I have also arranged to have a couple of tents loaded onto the mules and the cooking gear I used before. I have a mixture of fresh and preserved foods, probably enough for abouit two weeks. Do you think that will be enough?" he asks.
"I have packed more food that we can eat cold this time. Just in case we decide fires aren't a good idea." he adds almost apologetically.
Selina is a tall lithe younge woman with long raven hair that falls loosly to just below her waist. Each step speaks of her calculatious personality and grace but even as this is being observed her stance and stride change to match that of a lonely and perhaps niave girl.
She wears a long yet comfortable black dress and a cloak that is the color of dried blood. Strapped to the back of it are two long daggers and in a holster on each side of her thighs is a strange looking club. The back of her cloak can also, when still, be seen to be hiding a razor wind at the back of her hip. All together this creates a starling visage of beauty and danger and as heavy as the weapons would seem, they don't hinder the bodyguard in the least.
You can't realy see any weapons or equipment on Meeleek, but the many folds of his aba hide many secrets...
As he came in he carried with him a side-pack which look full and heavy.
Smiling a bit uncomfortably at Rolf's scrutiny, Corellon looks Rolf up and down as well. Corellon is about 5'2" tall, and is obviously fairly lightweight. He sports leather armor, just about the heaviest he can manage to carry, and his weapons are put away. His flashy green eyes are framed by his sandy blonde hair, and he carries a backpack that looks quite full. Looking about after examining Rolf, Corellon becomes quite bored and wanders around a bit, introducing himself to all of the others.
Rolf shrugs, giving up on trying to see more than is apparent. He would not be able to make fair decisions about them, not knowing, but they would have to live with it. Or die because of it perhaps. Still, he hadn't known much of the talents of Elsbeth, Mandrake, Kerim or Peter when first they set out.
"Well," he addresses them all, "Gather up what you need and meet here in one hour. After lunch, we'll set off."
Elsbeth holds up her hand. "If I might, Rolf, allow me."
She visibly waits for his okay, something she's not done much of in the past, then continues.
"I know all of ye be givin' your oaths and such, and ye all know what is expected. I'd not be lookin' for less."
She pauses, attempting to meet each eye, almost a silly gesture in a woman so young, but she tries nonetheless. "Still, let me relate a story to ye. We set out first with Rolf many who ye see here. Within days, one was killed, though he was a brave lad. Since that day those of us who be knowin' each other have seen ceremonies, broken vows from those who most would not, been summoned by Gods, met monsters who demanded us be as civilized as they." She sighs. "I tell ye this in that what ye think of us is but a small thing. What ye tell us of ye is also small, compared to what we do. Only in our quest will we find out what each is made of."
Unaccountably, the young woman blushes, remembering some event. "And ye may not expect what ye find. Just remember- all that stand here will be effected by the Gods, changed and transformed. What ye will become will be because of what we all do together."
As the introductions unfolded, Edgar became increasingly amazed at the diversity of those here gathered ... and the fact that they were gathered, with a common purpose. Despite their different tongues, cultures and beliefs, they all seemed to share this hope for something greater.
Peter's comments re the plentiful provisions he'd prepared for the journey ahead, followed by Rolf's determination that the group would luncheon before setting off, both pleased and amused the raven.
"That's one good thing about this bunch of two-legs", hethinks to himself as he finally abandons the intractable nut and starts on the cheese, "they're always careful to ensure they get regular meals !" Something that this raven most certainly appreciates !
As everyone start to disperse, Meeleek nears Rolf, and bows shortly. "A word with you, Rolf Liefsen, if you may." He leads Rolf outside, a bit apart from the others, and talks quietly to him.
Smiling a bit as the girl finishes her speech, Corellon watches her speak, probably longer than he has ever sat still before. Once finished, he silently applauds her 'warning' of sorts, and nods his head. Seeing Meeleek and Rolf leave, Corellon walks up to the young woman and introduces himself, "Hello, I am Corellon Amastacia, it would be my pleasure to meet such a fine public speaker," he smiles as he says this last part.
Rolf nods at Elsbeth's prompting. Her words evoke stronger memories than he would like and he remembers the fallen Aenis. When she finishes, Rolf can't help but smile at her reaction to her own words.
Meeleek approaches and requests a private word, and Rolf is happy to accommodate him. Rolf matches Meeleeks quiet tones.
Peter stands quietly as he listens to Elsbeth's words, his face starts to colour slightly and those who look closely might just see the glint of a tear in the corner of his eye.
As every one leaves, he ducks to gather his equuipment, just nudging the corner of his eye with his sleeve as he does so.
He slings his pack across his back and picks up the brown and green daubed shield in his left hand. Then mumbling something about " .. checking supplies ..." he heads off towards the mules.
Selina seems to vanish when no one is looking though no one can doubt by the look of her eyes that she'll be the first to assemble tommarrow.
OOC; Kerim wears only plain clothing, no armour what-so-ever. He has white baggy trousers and wears an oversized blue waistcoat with silver buttons. Some of the small picking from the last adventure. He has a Cutlas, Katar's (punching dagger) & shortbow (1 quiver), 2 spare on mules.
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Kerim, upon hearing of mules, grimaces slightly and rubs his forehead. He takes his concern to Peter, trying to cover it with humour.
Peter, Think you perhaps that Earl Richard knows far and wide your talent with pot and spices. Perhaps suspicion infers the offered mules will be the next months rations."
He hesitates before getting down to the meat of his worry.
"Might they indeed become that too, for this task we undertake seems pressed with danger greater than all before.
Knowingly will we face Dogheads, and be they in numbers too. Would the wise count favour in taking mules.
Food though they might provide they too will serve to give us away, remember a mule treads not lightly, and whilst I intend to deal at greater distance" he says indicating his new bow "I'd favour not them giving us away. They be but simple beasts and have not the thought for silence."
Although it would be nice to have mules it would also serve to hinder us. Kerim alone is not willing to say no to the mules, as he likes the animals.